


Come to Me

by H4T08



Series: Behind the Door [8]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Episode: s02e04 Elogium, F/M, Flirting, Otis Redding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-23 02:31:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11980215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/H4T08/pseuds/H4T08
Summary: The constant strum of time stops as their lips finally meet with no interruptions from the world outside.





	Come to Me

**Author's Note:**

> Post 'Elogium'. Who could resist their super flirty comments? 
> 
> Italics implies character's thoughts.
> 
> The title comes from the album "Otis Redding Sings Soul Ballads".

Strolling down the corridor with a PADD held firmly in his hand, Chakotay can't help but grin as the third person he just passed shows signs of a somewhat content life. He had seen one of his Maquis officers whistling as he stepped off the turbolift, a pair of science officers laughing at a joke and, just now, the couple that he had caught in the turbolift making out was walking to the mess hall hand in hand.

Stopping when he reaches his destination, he slightly hesitates with a frown before pressing the chime to Kathryn’s quarters. Last time they had met under more personal circumstances in his quarters, she had decided to push him away for the sake of not letting Mark down as well as propriety towards the crew. He had, of course, obliged.

Decisively pressing the chime, he patiently waits for her to grant him entrance. _I am only here to drop off a report_ , he silently reasons, _and that is it_.

When the door opens, he takes a timid step in and looks around to see where she is at.

"I shall be with you in a moment, Commander,” her voice calls out from beyond the wall to her bedroom.

Standing erect at attention with his hands firmly behind his back, he waits for her to join him. _Yet, since our all-too-brief talk in the Ford truck, I wonder what would happened if we talked beyond the scope of another long winded report_?

Stealing a few curious glances around her quarters, he notes that despite his limited time in here, she has decorated it to make it seem more comfortable. Peeking over his shoulder, he notices that her bed is neatly made from the dark shadows of her bedroom. The last time he was in there, he had spent the night with his arms wrapped around her. _The last time I was in there, she had asked me to stay_.

Swiftly turning his back on her bed, he tries to push away the memory of her warm skin sizzling underneath the palm of his hand. The way that she had moaned at his touch. The countless thoughts of wanting to explore what is hidden under her silk robe. The slight push of her ass into his--

“What can I do for you, Commander?”

Her commanding voice jolts him out of his thoughts. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tries to regain some sense of propriety before he faces her. As the thought of Neelix’s history of food works to quiet his libido, he now looks for a distraction as to his odd behavior. Spotting a gold and wooden contraption that he had never seen before, he turns to finally face her, “I'm sorry, Captain. I saw this thing back here and… and…” _Oh, shit, the Spirits are not on my side tonight_. “I was, uhh, trying to think what this uhhh, what this, uhhh….”

His cheeks blush a deep red as the sight of her bed looms behind her, taunting him. Resigning in defeat, he stiffly holds out the PADD in front of him and mumbles under his breath, “Here are the weekly department reports. I had meant to drop it off when you were in your ready room, but Mr. Tuvok had informed me that you had left for the evening.”

Taking the thin device in her hand, she walks around him and lays it on the dining table. She lets her eyes drift down to her thin pair of athletic shorts and a tank top with an embarrassed sigh. _He caught me just as I had come in myself, but I need to review over these reports_.

Turning back to Chakotay to thank him, she is quite frankly not surprised to find that he is blatantly checking her out. Placing two fingers under his chin and lifting his head up so that they are looking at each other, she demurely purrs, “I'm up here.”

_Shit_! Feeling the cold sting of embarrassment grinding against his stomach, he is about to profess his apologies when he sees a slow grin forming across her lips. Relaxing his shoulders, he slyly smiles, “You can't blame a guy for looking.” The tips of her fingers leaves a burning mark on his skin when she pulls away her hand.

“I had just come back here from my run in the holodeck and was about to shower and eat.” Biting the side of her lip, she quickly asks, “Would you like to join me?”

Quirking his eyebrow, he can't help but ask, “To shower with you or to eat with you?” Although in his mind it sounded funny, when his words left his lips, they came out as thick as honey at the thought of their naked bodies pressed against each other in a steamy shower. Cursing himself again for his bullish behavior, he shakes his head and murmurs, “I'm sorry. I should probably leave.”

Gripping his arm, she quickly responds, “No, it is I who should be sorry. I started it.” When her sparkling blue sapphires meet his coffee colored eyes, the fuzzy feeling of familiarity heats their connection and envelopes her as if it were a warm welcoming hug. _I want this_. Her one thought – innocent, yet truthful – punches her in the gut and then flourishes like a beautiful sea of flowers.

With the space he has given her the past few months, she realizes that, with their brief dalliance on the other side of her drawn parameter, she enjoys spending time with him. He makes her laugh and with their current surroundings, relaxing is a rare commodity. “Surely you can stay for some dinner. I promise not to get too sassy.” She expertly masks her excitement with a roll of her eyes.

“The sassy part is the part of you I find to be the sexiest.”

Drinking in the desire that fills his eyes and fuels his confidence, a delicious quiver shivers up her spine and set fire to her skin. Giving his flirtatious remark a coy smile of acknowledgement, she slips her hand from his arm and lightly replies, “Brash words coming from the mating behavior expert.”

“Well you did want my advice on mating behaviors,” he shrugs with a slow smile.

_Oh, shit! Those damn dimples_. Sensing a flash of desire dusting her cheeks, her smoldering smile turns into a cocky grin. _Two can play this game_ , lazily flicks through her mind as she dramatically sighs, “And what is it you have to offer to a woman who knows her way around that particular dance card?” Giving him a triumphant smile as he stammers with how to respond in kind, she turns towards the replicator to order their dinner.

“Well,” he starts out slowly, “with your penchant for seeking out new adventures and my willingness to learn things new, I'm sure we can figure something out.” Seeing her peek over her shoulder with the smallest hint of palatable apprehension gleaming in her eyes, he softly confesses, “I must warn you though, it takes some practice for me to fully grasp and understand these new… discoveries.”

Feeling a bubble of laughter ease the knot in her chest, she picks up their food and places it on the table. Her brow arches as she retaliates, “I'm sure it would take hours, even days, to fully comprehend the different types of mating rituals in this unknown quadrant. Although, I do have to state the obvious that neither of us are getting younger. The idea of learning a new form of culture – especially a piece that is as exhilarating – can be an exhausting feat.” Dramatically wiping her brow with the flick of her hand, she sags into her chair with a coy, “Don't you think?”

Just before he can make another innuendo on his abilities to perform at maximum efficiency, she holds up her hand and points down to the seat across from her, “However, it is dinner time and I would much rather talk about something other than mating.”

A small chuckle leaves his lips as he obediently picks up his fork to eat. As the comfortable silence envelopes them, he steals a few half hidden glances her way, quietly taking in her beauty. _She's gorgeous, unconventional, and strong as hell with a sharp tongue to boot_. Shoving his tomato around his plate, he looks up to see that her thoughts are just as muddled as his.

She feels the heat of his eyes on her, but she doesn't call him out on it. _Most likely because he knows I've been sneaking a peek as well_. Glancing up, she gives him a small smile as she secretly appreciates the view. _Yes, he's tall, dark, and handsome, but he's damn brilliant and achingly kind to all those around him_. Focusing back on her meal, her stomach flutters at the raw newness of this awkward, yet, fitting relationship.

Tension vibrates between, oozing with raw anticipation, yet there is a hint of hesitation from both.

For him, he is unsure of what she wants. She openly flirts with him both in the privacy of their quarters and in more public areas of the ship, yet when things become a little too difficult or the stress level is at an all time high, she is quick to push away. Confusion now clinching his throat in a vice grip, he pushes away his nearly empty plate.

Picking at the last bit of food in her bowl, she tries to figure out what she wants. _One minute, I can easily shuffle him into the Maquis-Captain-turned-Starfleet-Commander file in my brain. The next minute, he's the Maquis bad-boy I want to shove into the closest dark corner to have my naughty ways with him. The Captain in me demands the file, whereas the woman in me desires the dark corner._

Through the mix of hidden corners and files, a familiar kind face floats into her subconscious. _And then there's Mark. Sweet, simple Mark who believes that I'm dead._ Dropping her fork into the bowl, she wonders, _has he already moved on? What would he think of me if I moved on? He has forgiven me before, would this be any different_?

Feeling the tension between them escalate as their silent musings continue, she takes a sip of water to coax her dry throat and tells him, “Ensign Wildman just informed me that she is pregnant.”

Pure joy fills his heart. “The first child to be born on Voyager!” He can feel his cheeks stretch all the way in to his eyes. “What a blessing.”

His smile – _and those gorgeous dimples_ – are infectious as the thought of a baby lifts her dimmed spirits on the matter. She has reservations, yet, all of them are purely selfish and quite frankly of no concern. Nervously pressing her lips together, she quickly nods, “It is.”

His smile falters as he sees her true feelings reflecting in her porous eyes. “You're not happy?”

She takes his question as an accusation and her defenses go up. “It is unexpected, more than anything. But Ensign Wildman assures me that both her and the baby are doing well.” It is verbatim what she had said to Tuvok when she informed him before going to the holodeck. Yet, when she steals a glance at Chakotay, she automatically knows he's not falling for it. Instead of just coming out with telling him her fear, she cryptically murmurs down to her fidgeting fingers in her lap, “Now I can understand Captain Picard’s trepidation with caring for children on the Enterprise.”

He doesn’t understand, “How so?”

Mentally cataloguing his past assignments from his personal record, she understands his confusion as to why she is hesitant. _He's never been in charge of a family ship_. “I'm responsible for the life of that child. It is up to me to make sure that Ensign Wildman and her baby will wake up to see another day, to make it home so that that she can meet meet her father.”

She looks off over his shoulder at the record player she dug out from her storage locker – _the one daddy got me_ – and murmurs, “The idea, the thought, is daunting to say the least. If something were to happen, if I make one wrong decision…” She closes her eyes and shakes the rest of that thought from her mind. “I don't know if I could live with myself.”

_The idea of a loss of life, especially one as innocent as Ensign Wildman’s unborn child, is a burden almost too hard to bare. Yet, there is one thing he is sure of_ , “You know, in my limited time of getting to know you, there is no doubt in my mind that you will look out for that child as if she were your own.” After a small pause, he promises, “We all will.”

Tilting her head to the side, tears press against her lids at the bravado of his confidence in her as a Captain who will do anything for the sake of her crew. Opening and closing her mouth a few times at the unsureness of what to say, she finally decides to just speak, “I think that's the nicest thing you have ever said to me.” Giving him a tight smile, just as she is about to ask him if he would like any wine, he interrupts her–

"Have you given anymore thought to…,” he stumbles to finish his sentence, unsure of how to define their relationship. His eyes flick along her dazed features and he decides to just rip off the proverbial bandaid, “Have you given anymore thought to us?”

Biting down hard on her lip, she stalls, “Us… as in…,” her hand valleys between them over the table, “us?”

Yes! Yes! Yes! “Yes. You, me, us, together.” He tries not to sound to eager, but he feels as if he is failing spectacularly at that bit.

“It has taken up a minute or two of my free time,” she murmurs as she picks at her finger nails. _More like every waking minute_ , she muses.

The silence drags on for longer than he expected. “And?”

“And…,” she stutters, “and you said that you would give me time.”

He braces himself against the back of his chair while his hands fold in his lap as if he is negotiating a peace treaty. “You have been flirting with me all day. It's got me anxious as hell.”

Her brow furrows, “So you asking about a fraternization policy, that was for what? Shits and giggles?”

He shrugs his shoulders, “Just seeing where you stand.” At the flick of her disbelieving brow, he explains, “If you are for the policy, then I would know where you stand with us…,” again he falters, but pushes himself to punch though, “with us seeing each other privately. If you were against the policy, then I would know that you were ready to have your way with me.”

_Have my way with him? Quite presumptuous – true, of course – but extremely presumptuous_. “Did I pass?” She rolls her eyes at the tone of which her question came out. _Lust much, Kathryn_?

He lifts his brow, “I don't know, did you?”

She tips her head side to side as if her mind is literally weighing both options. “I… I keep teetering.” Looking up at him, she takes in a deep breath and goes for the discombobulated and slightly confusing truth. “I'm not ready to have my way with you, but I do like spending time with you. I don't know…” she threads her fingers through her tightly bound hair, “I'm being too analytical. If my sister were here, she would have smashed our heads together until we started kissing on our own accord.”

_Brashness and stubbornness must run in the family. Still, tread lightly Chakotay_. “You've got to be comfortable in your decision.” Biting his bottom lip hard, he has to ask, “What about Mark?

Staring off towards the ceiling, she stiffly remembers having this same conversation with herself numerous times. She sighs as her eyes tick side to side, “If we had had sex tonight and gotten home through a miraculous and extremely stable wormhole tomorrow, he would understand my decision to seek out your companionship.” She closes her eyes in defeat, “He has always been understanding.”

She shakes her head and shudders at the thought of looking up at the man in front of her. _He probably thought that because I'm a Starfleet Captain that I'm honorable in all aspects of my life. What a load of crock…_ “I had promised myself that I wouldn't betray him like I had done the last time and I hate the thought of breaking my promise to him.”

After a long moment to allow everything to sink in, he asks, “Did he forgive you?”

Slowly peeling her lids open, she confesses, “All three times.” The disgusting bitter taste of self-hatred settles heavily on her shoulders. “Each time I strayed, I hated myself more and more.” She notices him swallowing hard as shock smears along his normally calm features. “What? Did you just realize that I'm not the perfect Starfleet legacy as everyone perceives me to be?”

_Shocked at her confession, yes, but I never thought she was prefect_. “No. Its just reaffirming that you are as human as me. You are not the first person to stray on a mission and you wouldn't be the last.”

“Why? Do you have a wife or fiancé back home? Did you ever have to tell the person that you love that you had strayed?” Her harsh accusatory tone cuts through the air as she crosses her arms tightly along her chest.

He cringes at her words. Thinking back, he knows that what he had said sounded conceited, contrite, and patronizing. “I'm sorry.” She stares him down with her cool blue icicles, yet, he doesn't waver, not even in the slightest.

She lets her tense shoulders fall just a bit. “Maybe what I fear most is that you will see me as how I see myself.” Tears begin to prickle behind her eyes, yet she shakes them away. “There is a lot of road between here and Earth. We can't afford to fall apart and hate each other.”

For the longest time, he allows the silence to overtake their conversation as he thinks about the next step he wants to take. _I don't hate her, yet I don't know her. I don't want to make a promise and then something happens to where our dynamics change. But could I ever hate her?_ “I don't think I can hate you with as much passion as you have found to hate yourself. But, I do promise to be honest with you.”

Her chin kisses the top of her chest as she stares at her fidgeting fingers. A stifling silence falls between them as both of them try to think of what to say next.

“Can I ask you a question that has nothing to do with our conversation?”

Startled, Kathryn snaps her head up with wide eyes to match her dazed expression.

Throwing his thumb over his shoulder, Chakotay asks, “What is this thing behind me?”

Tilting her head to the side to get a better look, she slowly replies, “It's called phonograph. It was used in the late 19th to mid 20th century as a way to hear music.” She straightens back in her chair and smiles at the memories that come with the heavy device. “My daddy got it for me when I was accepted into the Academy.”

For the first time since hearing the news about Ensign Wildman, he showcases his dimples. “He wanted you to enjoy your time at the Academy.”

Instantly her mood is lifted. “Of course! Unfortunately, he gave me records – these flat discs where the music is recorded on – with music more fitting to study than to party.” A demure smile plays along her lips, “Those were tossed after five minutes and replaced with songs that the boys went crazy for.”

His smile transforms into a coy grin, “Do you have any of those records here.”

“I do,” she bites her bottom lip, “but they might be too provocative for you.”

“Don’t you think that as the expert in mating behaviors, I should be the judge of that?”

Pushing back her chair as she stands, she makes her way to her limited record collection. Just as she is about to pass by him, she brushes his shoulder with her hip and huskily whispers, “Who said anything about mating?”

The faint smell of her perfume mixed with sweat flares through his nose as she passes by him. Wordlessly standing, he turns and leans against the edge of the table with his arms smugly crossed along his chest.

She bends over and pulls out one of her favorite records. _Most of his songs are about love or the loss of love, but his soulful voice paired with his hip shaking beat is good for any occasion_.

After placing the the record on the turntable, she turns it on and gently drops the needle on the edge. As the twangy strum of the guitar reverberates through the cone, she peers over her shoulder, “Otis Redding Sings Soul Ballads,” she says before turning back to the record. Letting her eyes slip shut, her body smoothly sways to the beat.

He doesn't know who Otis Redding is or what constitutes a soul ballad, but in that precise moment, he knows that without a doubt he needs to have her in his arms. Stepping out from the table, he captures her elbow and swings her around.

Crashing into his chest, her muscles instantly relax when she feels his hand draw along the small of her back. Lifting her hand to meet his, they fall into a casual sway. A sensual heat simmers between their bodies as electricity occasionally charges when their hips collide with one another.

For two songs, the music hazily plays in the background as their feelings are silently discussed through their dancing eyes.

As the third song begins to play, Chakotay folds her closer into his body and smoothly glides his thumb from their combined hands along her jaw. “This is the best record I have ever heard.”

Her tongue darts from her parched lips before she murmurs, “I'm willing to bet this is the only record you have ever heard.”

Feeling his skin erupt as her fingers thread through the tiny hairs along the back of his neck, he whispers, “Guilty,” before closing the magnetizing space between their lips.

The constant strum of time stops as their lips finally meet with no interruptions from the world outside.

Pulling her closer to his body with his hand around her waist, he abandons dancing altogether as his his fingers caress her cheek. Her lips, soft and supple just as he had imagined them to be, greets his neediness with full force.

Threading her fingers along he base of his neck, she swears she can hear him growl as she opens her mouth wide to invite his probing tongue. Pressing her hips into his to help relieve the pent up desire on both parts, she lets out a strangled moan when she feels his excitement pressing against her belly.

Sliding his hand down the curve of her ass, he squeezes the thinly covered fleshy skin to illicit another tantalizing moan from her. _I want her_. His primal thought is heavily punctuated by the delicious demand her body is making against his own. Lifting the tips of his fingers just slightly, he inches them along the delicately soft skin underneath the band on her shorts.

Tearing her lips away as his fingers makes contact with her over-stimulated skin, she tries desperately to catch her breath and the right side of her mind. _No, I want more_. Burying that sinful thought deep down inside her libido to explore later tonight at the expense of her own hand, she gives him one more peck before taking a step back.

Groaning at the loss of her body’s warmth, he closes his eyes as he tries to catch his breath. Swallowing past the desire to push her against the nearest wall to make her scream out his name, he saves it and stores it to use it when he is taking a long hot shower.

Taking another full step back, a bucket of ice cold water dumps over her head as her mind begins clear the fog of desire. “I'm so glad that you are not a sloppy kisser.”

Despite being doused in cool air, he grins at her.

As the silence between songs fills the air, she sighs, “We need to make some rules with this.”

His brow furrows, “What do you mean?”

“I mean I need somethings in place to help safeguard against having this,” she wave hr hand between their bodies, “go to shit in a handbag.”

Crossing his arms along his chest, he lifts his brow in amusement, “I'm assuming you don't want me groping you on the bridge?”

“Among other things,” she reaches behind her to turn off the phonograph, “there are others though; such as keeping both your hands and your goo-goo eyes to yourself.”

Feeling a bubble of laughter rising through his chest, begging to break the tension between them, he tries to ask with a straight face, “Goo-goo eyes?”

Crossing her arms along her chest, she smirks, “Yes, the way a satisfied lover looks when he has been able to dip into the pool of temptation.” Staring into his dark, hooded eyes, she can almost see him replay the sizzling kiss they just shared through his nearly black orbs. Feeling her cheeks flush for the hundredth time this evening, the cold chill of anticipation electrifies every inch of her skin as she whispers, “Just like that.”

“How poetic,” he murmurs under his breath. _Oh, the idea of dipping into her pool…_ he feels his mind grow dizzy with lustful prospects. “Deal. No goo-goo eyes or groping. Business as usual both in here and outside of those doors, yet the definition of that business takes on a different meaning when we leave our ranks at the door.”

Holding up a finger, she quickly adds, "It should never planned. When it happens, it happens. Nothing dubious on your part.”

Lifting a brow as a small grin stretches along his cheeks, he laughs, “Now that's one thing no one has ever accused me of.” At her disbelieving grunt, he elaborates, “My stance against the Cardassians and the subsequent violence we had to use was always straight forward from me. I have never pretended to be someone I'm not.”

Nodding, she sends them back into a more comfortable silence.

After a few minutes of charged glances and hidden smiles, he claps his hands together and simply asks, “So, can we make out now?”

Defusing the tension instantly, loud laughter rings out from her lungs, making her feel a little bit more human then she had in the past few weeks. Catching her breath, she shakes her head and simply answers, “No.”

Shrugging his shoulders with a carefree attitude, he says, “You can't blame a guy for trying.” Pushing himself off of the table, he says with a slight bow, “I have got to get going.”

“Yeah, I have to take a shower and read the ridiculously long report you gave me on top of the security report I decided to skip out on earlier.” Her arms lazily falls down to her sides, “I, umm, am glad we got a few things settled.”

Nodding his head in confirmation, he puckers his lips and sternly reiterates, “Right, no goo-goo eyes and I'm a decent kisser.” A strong smile blossoms across his cheeks, “I say it's been a good day.” Giving her a quick, easy smile, he hears a husky ‘wait’ just before he has a chance to reach out to press the release button to open her door. Turning towards her with a smug grin that accentuates his charming dimples, he quirks his brow with a throaty, “Yes ma'am?”

She raises her finger between them, “Let’s not negate the fact that for the first time, we were not interrupted with ship’s business or–”

Chakotay effectively finishes her thought by colliding his lips onto hers. Cradling her jaw with his hands, his thumbs sweeps along her blushing cheeks as he stifles a satisfied moan. Leaning out of their tempered embrace, their foreheads kiss as they both try to catch their breaths. “I've been wanting to do that for a long time.”

“Feeling better there, slugger?” She languorously opens her eyes to see him staring back at her.

Taking a step back and shifting his clothes just a smidge, he heatedly murmurs, “Very.” A crooked smile plays along his lips as he reaches out for the release button to the door. “Have a good night.”

Just as his delectable backside passes her threshold, she boldly calls out to him, “Don't worry, I will.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for the long delay. Work sucks, but gotta make the money somehow! 
> 
> Otis Redding is the most amazing singer. If you have not introduced yourself to any of his songs, then go do so right now! You can either begin with the album mentioned in this story or play his greatest hits album.
> 
> I hope you liked it!


End file.
